


Your skull is overflowing with crimson fantasies

by Baryshnikov



Series: Where Monsters lie [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cannibalistic Thoughts, Insanity, M/M, POV Second Person, Sensual gore, Sensual horror, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 12:29:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16408529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baryshnikov/pseuds/Baryshnikov
Summary: Is it madness?





	Your skull is overflowing with crimson fantasies

Is it madness?

You do not know.

Is it madness that you imagine so vividly all the beasts on his tongue and all the cruelty that soaks his hands? You know there are so many sins woven into his skin, although he doesn’t let anyone else see. To all of them he is perfect, he is a dream, he is the one glassy perfection that glides through this corrupted world. But you know the truth, you know what horrors lurk in his skull, you know what depraved fantasies he has locked inside his mind. You know them all, and you want every single one of them. You know you do, just as you know it is wrong. Wrong that you want him never to forget what you do to him and want him to never forget what he does to you. As much as you might deny it, you know you are different sides of the same coin, light and dark, an angel and a monster. Though you don’t know who is who, anymore. You both have your shadows, dark expanses of abyss hanging suspended in your eyes, and you both have your brilliance, a shining light that they all see as a miracle, and you see as a contagion. You know no matter how bright you shine there are monsters under your skin, and they are scratching to get out. 

Is it madness that you want to climb into his skin, and feel what it is like to be him? Feel what it is like to be _inside_ him. You are in love with the idea of looking in the mirror and seeing his face smiling back at you. To know that he is so like you, to know that you could become one another, perhaps you already are. You know it is disgusting how much you want to be inside him, in every meaning of that fateful word. You want to feel his lungs they breathe in this powdered illusion everyone calls reality, you want to watch his heart as it beats, want to feel it pulsating and pulsating and pulsating. You want to feel your body binding itself to that rhythm, pulsing with him until you have melted together, and no one knows where he ends, and you begin. There should be revulsion at the thought of dragging your tongue across his bloodied heart, feeling it throbbing under you; your fingers digging into his flesh, pulling him apart and proclaiming yourself the monster you already know you are. 

Is it madness that you are hungry for him? It gnaws endlessly in your stomach, threatening to tear itself out unless you sate its need. But you know, however much you gorge yourself on his glamour and glut yourself with his glory, you will never be satisfied. You will never be able to resist him, and you no longer want to. He is what you need. He is your salvation and your condemnation, your hope and your despair, he offers to you so freely a eulogization and an execration. Willing to make you feel like god and the devil trapped in one body. You can’t help but laugh at how much it hurts, at how much you just want him. Want to do things with him, things your mind is scared to supply. You imagine your hands in his hair, curling around the strands, pulling gently at first and not so gently by the end. You can imagine the texture of his lips, the bite of his teeth, the taste of his blood, and your blood. They are intermingling bringing you closer than your bodies alone ever could. It is so sick to think about, and yet, so good. 

Is it madness that you can imagine using your teeth to strip back his flesh? You are sure he tastes too sweet, a sickening blend of manna and honey that has you hooked. You know you won’t be able to stop if he lets you have a taste. You’d eat him alive if you could, and _that_ should scare you. It doesn’t. You have known, for a long time, you are not as innocent as you once were. That there is an infection inside you that you cannot deny, and how you want to know if he is infected with it too. If he has that gnawing, that aching, that throbbing that just won’t go away. It leaves you lying there swathed in a gorgeous agony until you give in and indulge every appalling fantasy that you have ever had. There are so many now that you can hardly bear to choose. You know by the end, your mind will be numb and there will nothing in your world but the crackling static and him. 

Is it madness that you touch yourself in the dark? Head tipped back, taking too long because you want to keep your decaying fantasy alive, his shadow swallowing you until his name stains your tongue. It feels so rotten on your lips, so forbidden, so taboo that you want it again and again, and again. It is so monstrous to utter his name out loud where anyone can hear you, especially when you utter it like that, surrounded by deplorable words and even more deplorable actions. That doesn’t stop you though. It doesn’t stop you shaking, breath so heavy, fearing you might faint, fingers wrapped around yourself, imagining it is his fingers dragging you into the darkness towards that high. Oh, how you want him. Want his body on yours, pressing you down under the artificial lights. Want to feel his bones through his skin, want to feel his weight, his hands, his mouth. It reminds you how weak you really are, to think how much you would give to have your body adorned with his forever, to have yourself etched into his being for eternity. You know you are lodged somewhere in his mind, a seed ready to burst with a pestilence that will wrap him in pretty garlands of red, until he cries out your name and your name alone. 

Is it madness that you want to do terrible things? You want to watch him drown, watch him suffocate, you can see your hands wrapped around his throat, the bruises blossoming like flowers across that white skin. You know you should let go, but he makes dying look so good. Your hands press through the skin and sink into the flesh. His body dissolves and you are left with blood dripping from your fingers, and pride sliding down your spine. Despite your hands shaking you put your fingers to your lips, smearing that red across your mouth, and your teeth, and your tongue. Everything will be smothered with him, submerged in that red world that you are falling in love with. You can feel him behind you, hands tracing your shoulders, nails scratching, too eager to release the malevolence that lurks beneath your skin. The world is spinning, blurring before your eyes, you no longer know what is real; once that would have scared you, but now…

Is it madness?

You know it is. 

You’ve always known. 

You just didn’t want to admit it.

**Author's Note:**

> The whole vibe can be summed up with the beautiful track 'downfall' by kyddiekafka  
> Hope you enjoyed this.


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